


And We Built a Fire Out in the Cold

by tinydancer



Category: Shameless (US)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Roommates/Housemates, M/M, Set in an alternative timeline to what would’ve been 3x06-7, they're bunkmates at gunderson house group home
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-11
Updated: 2014-04-11
Packaged: 2018-01-19 00:18:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,108
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1448308
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tinydancer/pseuds/tinydancer
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The day passes without Ian and Mickey ever exchanging a word. The first time they speak, it’s an argument about cigarettes.</p>
            </blockquote>





	And We Built a Fire Out in the Cold

**Author's Note:**

> Anon asked for roommates AU where “everything else about their backgrounds stay the same except they haven't met until this point. They drive each other crazy until they start feeling attraction” 
> 
> I’m not sure if I succeeded (I changed it to bunkmates lol) but here you go!

“Twenty bucks says we’re back in five days,” Lip had said as they’d loaded into the DFS van one after another.

Ian wants to laugh. It’s been almost a week; Fiona is getting nowhere with her case – something about shitty lawyers.

Gunderson House operates like a fucking prison. Lip tells Ian he should get used to it since the army’s gonna be just as bad. Ian only shrugs and misses their home like a limb, misses the smell of Fiona cooking French toast for breakfast, the sound of Debbie and Carl arguing over stupid things – of Liam mumbling a string of random words whenever he gets too excited.

And Jesus, does he miss his own goddamn privacy.

There are so many shithead guys in this place; all grouped together like a fucking colony of rats. Lip gets along with them fine, no problem, but it sucks ‘cause Ian’s pretty much following him around. Like he’s back in second grade running to his big brother whenever he needs protection – whenever shit hits the fan.

The problem is, shit really _has_ hit the fan, at least for Ian. Because even though Lip’s acting like they’ll be home in no time, Ian is constantly battling with the sinking feeling of never going home again. Which is probably just an irrational way of thinking, but whatever.

What’s worse is that Lip’s gotten himself in trouble with their supervisor yet _again_ , and this time he’s being punished and moved to a separate room.

So now there’s an empty bed on the bunk above Ian’s, and before he can even move to claim it as his own, Deane the fucking stick-up-his-ass supervisor comes in with a new guy by his side.

As he hears the rules being rattled off for the thousandth time, Ian cranes his neck from where he’s lying on his back to get a good look at his bunkmate.

Pale skin, a shock of dark hair, scarred knuckles with a lettering of tattoos scratched on. Ian’s heart jolts, he _knows_ this guy.

He’s a born and bred southsider, went to school with Lip until he dropped out. Grown up just getting by like the rest of them.

Mickey Milkovich.

Ian doesn’t realise he’s staring until Mickey’s eyes snap to his. “The fuck you lookin’ at?”

Before Ian can even reply, Deane cuts in. His tone is sterner than usual, which is saying something. “ _Michael_ , I’d advise you not to pick a fight on your first day.”

Mickey looks like he wants to retort with something snarky, but he seems to think twice about it and opts to just rolling his eyes instead. Deane disappears after listing yet another set of rules and that leaves Ian alone with Mickey – well, as alone as you can be in a room with thirty other guys.

Mickey very purposely avoids eye contact with Ian and makes a huge deal of kicking his shoes off, leaving them to lie wherever. Ian figures it’s a _fuck you_ to the rules that were only _just_ listed to him (number three: be orderly and neat. Don’t leave your stupid shit lying around).

An image flashes through Ian’s mind – a plucky kid, pale skin and a too-loud mouth, pissing on first base right in the middle of a game. Ian grins. He might just like this guy.

*

The day passes without Ian and Mickey ever exchanging a word. The first time they speak, it’s an argument about cigarettes.

“Ay, wake the fuck up,” Mickey’s voice is hushed but still too loud and close to Ian’s ear.

Ian hadn’t even been sleeping, but he’s still annoyed since he was _just_ about to fall asleep – a hard feat on it’s own without any interruptions.

“ _Mickey_? What?”

“You stole my smokes, shithead?”

Ian rolls his eyes up at Mickey’s silhouette, but then remembers they’re in the dark. “ _No_. I have my own.”

“Shit,” Mickey says, sounding more like he’s talking to himself. “Where the fuck are they?”

“Maybe Deane suspended them. He took Lip’s pack on his second day here.”

Mickey swears and fidgets around some more. He climbs up to the top bunk, probably looking for the pack.

“Deane’s a self-righteous dick, he probably took them.”

There’s a pause and Ian thinks that’s the end of that, until he hears Mickey speak somewhere from above.

“I fucking hate this shithole.”

Ian snorts. “Yeah, join the club…Anyways, you can’t smoke in here and they’ve got security so you probably can’t get out for a smoke ‘til morning, either.”

“I ain’t goin’ out just for a smoke. I got shit to do.”

“Like what?”

“Like it’s none of your fucking business.”

“Okay,” Ian shrugs. He feels like the conversation is still unfinished but doesn’t know what else to say. Mickey doesn’t end up going out anyway. It takes Ian almost another hour to fall asleep.

The next day, Ian has ROTC training first thing in the morning, so he showers and dresses in uniform before going to the cafeteria to eat. He’s gotten used to the sideways and lingering glances he gets in public when wearing full gear, but it’s weird feeling the other guys blatantly eye him, probably sizing him up. Ian considers the other possibility – that some of them are _checking_ him out, but he quickly dismisses the thought since there’s no use going down that road anyway. He doesn’t want to start something with some random guy in this group home. Besides the fact that he might get propositioned as a set up for a fag-bash, Ian doesn’t want anything that might leave him attached to this shithole. He wants to go home.

So Ian ignores every side-eyed look and sits next to Lip, who immediately starts complaining about the food as per usual.

“I hope you like shit for breakfast, with a side of more shit and garnished with, _you guessed it_ , an extra dollop of shit.”

Ian snorts, “Dude, shut the fuck up. Trying to eat here.”  

“ _Trying_ being the key word.”

Lip rambles on for a while about some new girl he’s fucking and then starts listing the ironic benefits of living in socio-economic calamity. Ian tunes him out, until Lip mentions a certain Milkovich.

“You see that Mickey Milkovich got put in here too? Bumped into him this morning on my way to the crapper.”

Ian nods, “Yeah. He took your bunk yesterday afternoon so he just got here.”

Lip raises his eyebrows, “Good luck with that, man. I remember Mickey from school and the last time I saw him he was giving a guy the beat-down ‘cause he didn’t cough up enough money for coke.”

“Sounds like a regular southsider, then.”

“Nope,” Lip shakes head. “Ian, you _know_ the Milkoviches are worse. Remember Terry at the McKellar’s barbeque like, two summers ago? Surprised the kids weren’t put in the system earlier.”

Ian shrugs and wants to say something about how Lip doesn’t know _everything_ about _everything_ , but he holds his tongue. He finishes his breakfast in record time and actually remembers to sign out before leaving.

He’s walking down the steps of the building when he spots Mickey leaning against a wall, taking a smoke.

Mickey pretty much looks like he wants to be left alone, but Ian can’t help but say something.

“See you found your smokes.”

Mickey snorts and gives an odd kind of half-smile, “Yeah fuckin’ right. Had to steal this off some punk’s bed. His fault for taking so long in the shower.”

“Wait,” Ian frowns. He feels around his pockets and thinks back to the morning. He’s not a constant smoker like Lip, so he didn’t even notice they were gone. “So you took _my_ pack. What the fuck, man?”

Mickey shrugs and scratches his nose. “Was gonna go buy a new pack just now, anyway. Not like you even noticed they were gone.”

Ian raises his eyebrows because it sounds like Mickey’s saying he’s gonna buy another pack for Ian, to replace the one he took. Doesn’t sound like a typical Milkovich move – well it doesn’t sound like _Lip’s_ definition of a Milkovich move, but Ian’s more the type to take things at face value.

“Alright,” Ian shrugs. “Remember you owe me.”

“Whatever,” Mickey takes a drag and eyes Ian. “Looks like you got somewhere to be. Going after towelheads, are you?” He raises his eyebrows, nodding at Ian’s uniform.

 “ROTC training.”

“Yeah? You know your way around a gun, then?”

“Probably better than you,” Ian smirks.

Mickey’s only reply is to exhale all the smoke into Ian’s face, probably trying to be all intimidating and shit. Ian shakes his head, somehow finding the move both annoying and fucking _endearing_.

“I’ll see you around then,” Ian says and turns to head to the bus stop. 

It’s only when he’s sitting on the bus, twenty minutes away from ROTC, that Ian realises his conversation about guns might not have been entirely innocent and maybe a lot euphemistic.

Well, _fuck_.

Ian usually notices when he’s being propositioned since it’s a skill he kind of has to have living in the southside and being gay and all. But this isn’t just _some_ guy – it’s Mickey fucking Milkovich. The kinda tough, closeted-neighbourhood kid Ian’s fifteen-year-old self used to fantasise about occasionally. It could be that Ian’s completely off and is reading a little too much into things, but the idea of getting to fuck Mickey Milkovich is too good not to think about for the better half of the bus ride.

After Roger Spikey, Ian had set himself a kind of goal to figure out the names and faces of all the gays in his neighbourhood. He’s had theories of course, but Mickey never even blipped on his radar.

Well, until now.                                                                          

*

Ian makes it back to the group home just in time for curfew. He goes to the cafeteria to eat dinner but doesn’t spot Lip anywhere, and he doesn’t particularly feel like making conversation with Lip’s new buddies. So when he sees Mickey sitting at a fairly isolated corner, Ian figures he might as well take a chance.

He seats himself across from Mickey, putting his tray down on the table without a word. Ian smirks at Mickey, and eyes him down a little – daring him to say something.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?”

Ian gestures to his food. “Um, eating?” he says, and starts digging into his food like nothing’s out of the ordinary. If Mickey really didn’t want him here, he would’ve just told Ian to fuck off, simple as that.

It’s quiet as they both kind of chew through the dinner. Mickey comments on how disgusting it is more than once and Ian snorts at his colourful language. He grins every time Mickey starts shooting glares at anyone who so much as approaches the vicinity of their table.

“So I have school tomorrow,” Ian says after a while.

Mickey snorts. “Well, la-di-fucking-da. What’re you telling me for?”

“That’s not it,” Ian rolls his eyes. “I just wanted to let you know I have a few classes with Mandy and I can get in touch with her if you want. I know Deane probably hasn’t given you your phone back yet.”

For a moment, Mickey looks completely taken aback. “How’d you know?”

“Know what?”

“That I’ve been looking for my god damn sister all day since the fucking DFS bitch didn’t tell me where they put her.”

Ian didn’t exactly know that Mickey was looking all day, but he shrugs anyway. “I guess I’d do the same thing in your position. Lip and I are lucky we have Fiona in the outside keeping track of our younger brothers and sister, keeping us updated. ‘Cause if we didn’t have her I’d be fucking worried too.”

Mickey frowns and looks down at his food. He seems to be considering the offer.

“Alright,” Mickey, pauses, chewing on his lip. “Say you talk to Mandy for me, find out if she’s okay or whatever. What’s in it for you?”

“Well, it’s not like it’s a hard thing to do.”

“The fuck does that even mean?”

Ian rolls his eyes at Mickey’s defensive tone. “It means it’s no trouble for me so I don’t expect anything in return.”

Mickey eyes Ian suspiciously for a moment, before his face kind of softens a bit.

“Well….” Mickey starts, but Ian interrupts.

“Don’t worry about it,” Ian smiles at him a little and stands up. He picks up his tray and turns around to leave, until he hears Mickey’s voice.

“Ay, Gallagher.”

Mickey takes a brand new pack of smokes from his pocket and slides it towards Ian.

Ian doesn’t do anything to hide his grin, “Thanks.”

Mickey rubs his lips and kind of gives a half-nod.

Ian takes the pack.

*

The next day on his bus ride to school, Ian starts worrying about a bunch of different shit – like wondering where Lip had fucked off to during dinner and breakfast, and how Fiona’s going with her mission to find a decent lawyer willing to go pro-bono.

He also thinks about how he’ll go about the whole _Mickey Milkovich is probably down_ _to fuck_ thing, but figures he doesn’t wanna risk anything without being completely sure.

Anyway, Ian kinda just _likes_ hanging out with Mickey and he doesn’t want to ruin whatever weird mutual understanding they’ve got going on by accidently hitting on him. So, _okay_ – no thinking about fucking Mickey until Ian’s completely sure he’s right about the whole thing.

But that’s easier said than done; because Mickey’s ass looked _really_ damn good in those boxers he’d been wearing before going to bed. Ian’s probably in over his head.

*

Mandy, as it turns out, is a fucking badass. Ian always kind of admired from afar every time she’d mouthed off to the teachers in the few classes they have together – so it’s no wonder he likes her straight away.

After he’d first spotted her, he’d gone straight to business and told Mandy that Mickey’s been looking for her and asked if she’s okay. Mandy had only looked slightly surprised.

“I’m fine,” she’d shrugged, and then smiled a bit. “Staying at a house with a lot of kids. Korean family, they’re nice I guess.”

They’ve been hanging out for the rest of the day ever since. They get along pretty fucking well – or so Ian thinks, until Mandy kisses him at the kebab store.

“Um,” Ian says, his mind going completely blank.

Mandy frowns. “What’s wrong?”

“I, um.”

“You wanted this, right?” Mandy says, and leans in to kiss him again. This time Ian kind of backs away slightly.

“What, I’m not good enough for you?” Mandy crosses her arms. She starts talking about how he’s not fucking better than her just because he’s a _Gallagher,_ and the hurt in her tone sucks so much that the Ian just blurts out the first thing that comes to mind.

“Mandy, I’m gay,” he interrupts.

That shuts her up real quick. Her mouth opens and closes for a bit. “Oh,” she says.

“Yep,” Ian replies, his heart beating really fucking fast. This is the first time he’s told anyone outside his family – and although he likes Mandy, he hardly knows her.  “Um, don’t tell anyone?”

Mandy eyes him for a moment, “Okay, I won’t tell anyone.”

It’s a little awkward as they both stare at each other for a long time. Ian doesn’t know what else to say.

“You’re not lying, are you?” Mandy asks abruptly.

“ _No_. Why would I lie about this – and in this neighbourhood, too?”

Mandy shrugs,  “Maybe you’re too nice to say you don’t want me. That I’m not pretty enough, or whatever.”

“You're kidding right?” Ian kind of gestures towards Mandy, who’s looking up at him with her pretty face and dark bangs. “Mandy, you’re _beautiful_. I’m just not wired that way.”

Mandy looks a little embarrassed. “Well, alright then.” She eyes Ian for little while longer before uncrossing her arms. “As long as you’re telling the truth.”

“I am.”

“Okay,” she says after a pause, and this time she finally smiles.

Ian smiles back. “Hey, if you wanna see your brother, I guess you could come by when I go back to the group home tonight.”

Mandy raises her eyebrows. “I’m allowed in there?”

“Well, probably not. We’d have to sneak you in…my brother’s good with that stuff so he can sort it out.”

“Lip?”

“Yeah,” Ian replies. He’s not really surprised that Mandy knows Lip or that she’s at least heard of him.

“Alright… _he’s_ not gay too, is he?”

Ian laughs, “Not as far as I know.”

*

They manage to sneak Mandy in at around nine, right after lights out. It’s a little weird at first, seeing Mandy so obviously flirt with Lip (and Ian imagines it’s weirder for Mickey) but things start feeling more normal once they break into the cafeteria for food. They share two joints between the four of them and end up raiding the vending machine, which is fine by Ian since he sort of has a not-so secret obsession with peanut butter cups.

Mickey’s got himself surrounded with a few bags of chips and chocolate bars, sitting in the far end of the room well away from Lip and Mandy. Ian plops down next to him.

“Looks like they’re getting close.”

Mickey snorts, “That’s one way to put it.”

“Can I have one?” Ian asks, gesturing to the pile of junk food.

“Whatever,” Mickey shrugs and Ian smiles.

He ends up choosing a Snickers, and then makes a subtle show out of wrapping his lips around the bar. Ian feels Mickey’s eyes basically zero onto his lips before quickly darting away. He tries not to feel too smug.

Okay, so probably most definitely down to fuck.

Ian smirks and finishes the Snickers bar. He slides closer to Mickey so their shoulders graze.

Mickey tenses a little, so Ian doesn’t push it after that. He just goes on and on about whatever comes to mind. The army, his family, baseball, the fucking _weather_. He talks so much that Ian’s surprised Mickey hasn’t told him to shut up.

“What about _you_?” Ian asks. “How’d you and Mandy end up in the system, anyway?”

Mickey shrugs, “My dad got arrested for grand theft. Our new bitch neighbour probably reported us.”

“You and Mandy are the youngest, right?” Ian asks, thinking about Carl, Debbie and Liam.

“Yeah,” Mickey says and then frowns. “The fuck are you askin all these questions for?”

“I don’t know, m’ just wondering.”

“You wonder too much,” Mickey snorts. “And you talk too much.”

Ian smiles, “Nah, actually I don’t. Not usually, anyway. Usually it’s Lip doing all the talking.”

Mickey leans against the wall and crosses his arms. “Yeah, can fucking imagine that the great southside prodigy has a lot to say.”

“Guess I’m used to it,” Ian says a little quietly. “Y’know, living in his shadow or whatever. I used to really hate it.”

Mickey doesn’t say anything for a while as he opens up a new bag of chips. “He better not fuck over my sister, I’ll fucking kill him.”

“If he does, he has me to answer to as well. I like her.”

Mickey scoffs, “Don’t tell me you wanna bang her too.”

“Nah,” Ian says. “She’s not really my type, you know.” He gives Mickey a very deliberate look. Mickey stares back at him.

Ian slides closer again, this time he gently touches Mickey’s wrist where it’s laying between them.

Mickey jerks his hand away.

“If we fuck, we’re not doing that shit.”

Ian smiles. “Whatever you want.”

*

They end up in one of the shower stalls. Ian locks it for extra measure, and briefly wonders whether Lip and Mandy care that both of them have suddenly disappeared. But then he feels Mickey’s hands tugging on his t-shirt and all other thoughts go out the window.

Ian smirks and helps Mickey out of his clothes, yanking at his sweat pants. Ian doesn’t hesitate when he sees Mickey’s cock, he goes down to his knees and starts blowing Mickey like he’s been thirsting for it. Which is partially true, probably.

Ian shows off a little, deep-throating Mickey once, and then twice and Mickey’s fingers bunch through Ian’s hair in a way that feels _so_ damn good, Ian almost moans out loud.

He pulls off with a loud obscene _pop_ before Mickey can come.

“The fuck, Gallagher. Why’d you stop?” Mickey says from above, his voice is hoarse.

Ian smiles, wipes at his lips and stands up. “You ever been fucked, Mickey?”

Mickey raises his eyebrows. “You got any lube?”

Ian shakes his head, “Not like I planned this.” Which isn’t actually true per se, but Ian didn’t know it was gonna happen so soon.

“Well I ain’t having that huge fucking thing anywhere near my ass with no lube,” he gestures to Ian’s very visible hard-on, even through his sweats.

Ian smirks. He knows that he has an above average sized dick. Mickey’s still staring at it and Ian wonders if Mickey’s a bit of a size queen.

“You want to...touch it?” Ian raises his eyebrow and somehow manages to keep a straight face.

Mickey laughs, “Fuck off, man.”

“If you feel like sucking my dick, I’m not gonna stop you.”

Mickey doesn’t reply, and rubs at his lips like he’s considering it. God, Ian _really_ wants to see how those pinkish lips look stretched around his cock.

Then suddenly, Mickey’s on his knees too fast, probably earning himself a bruise or two. But it doesn’t seem like Mickey cares so much at this moment, since he’s too busy undoing Ian’s drawstrings.

Ian closes his eyes as Mickey leans in and starts sucking. The sensation is almost overwhelming, with Mickey’s tongue and mouth feeling so wet and warm and _perfect_. What Mickey lacks in technique, he makes up for in fervour. He has Ian coming in a surprisingly short amount of time, and Mickey makes a sort of indignant sound.

He spits out Ian’s spunk and glares up it him. “Jesus, how ‘bout a fuckin’ warning next time?”

Ian laughs, still feeling blissed-out and kind of reeling from Mickey implying that there’ll be a next time at all.

He looks down at Mickey, ready to make an offer to finish him off. But it looks like Mickey’d already come while he was sucking Ian’s dick. Ian grins. Who would’ve thought Mickey Milkovich loved to suck dick?

“What’s so fuckin’ funny?” Mickey grumbles, pulling up his own pants and tying the string.

 “Nothin’,” Ian pauses. “You’re pretty good at that.”

Mickey huffs and somehow manages to look smug and embarrassed at the same time. Ian tries not to think too much on how fucking cute he finds the expression.

*

By the time Ian wakes up, he’s already running late for school. He showers and dresses as quickly as possible. When he goes back to the bunk bed for his shoes, he sees that Mickey’s still sleeping. Which is fair enough really, since he has no reason to be awake at six am.

Ian wonders if it’ll be weird between them now. _God_ , he hopes not. He actually likes hanging out with Mickey, and sure last night was fucking amazing, but he’s gonna have to bunk with this guy for however long now. He doesn’t want it to be awkward.

The day goes as slow as fucking ever. Ian finds Mandy during break and they talk about things like they’ve known each other forever. Ian can’t remember the last time he’d felt so comfortable around someone.

“So I’m guessing you had sex with my brother last night.” Ian rolls his eyes and takes a drag from his cigarette. “You two were being disgusting.”

Mandy smacks him lightly on the shoulder. “Shut up. We weren’t as bad as you and Mickey.”

Ian almost drops the cigarette. “You _knew_?” he splutters. His expression probably looks ridiculous, but he’s fucking shocked to put it frankly. He thought they were being pretty discreet.

“Yeah…actually Lip guessed it first. He was pretty surprised to find out you’d even came out to me, by the way.”

“Wait, you guys talked about me?”

“We didn’t do that much talking, but yeah. I guess.”

Ian’s thoughts are all over the place so he tries to focus on one thing. “So you already knew that Mickey’s…gay?”

Mandy shrugs. “I’m not sure whether he’s _gay_ , but I walked in on him shoving something up his ass once. Had to wash my eyes with acid for a week after.”

Ian’s so shocked at her casual tone that he can’t help but burst out laughing.

Mandy grins, “C’mon, idiot. We’re late for class.”

*

After the first time, Ian starts fucking Mickey on a pretty regular basis. He’d come back from school expecting Mickey to be standoffish but Mickey had acted like his usual colourful self – well, with an extra amount of added innuendos to their conversations.

The sex is fucking amazing. Mickey’s ass feels like it was _made_ for Ian’s dick, and Ian almost tells him that the fifth time they fuck, quiet and hurriedly in bathroom.

Luckily he’d caught himself though – Ian’s never been a real talker during sex and is usually annoyed when the person he’s fucking talks too much. Except with Mickey. Mickey knows exactly what he wants and when he wants it, and he isn’t afraid to let Ian know with a few choice words. Ian fucking loves it.

He doesn’t mind the no-kissing thing. Well, maybe he does _a little_ but he can live with it if it means being friends with Mickey and getting to fuck him daily. Sometimes they go out after Ian’s done with work and fuck under the bleachers or the baseball dugout near school. It’s a nice change from trying to fuck without the constant thought of getting caught by the other guys in the group home.

Friday night, Ian and Mickey make it back in time right before curfew. As they head to the cafeteria, Lip catches Ian’s arm.

“Where the hell have you been all day? I’ve called you like twelve times,” Lip says and then gives Mickey a dirty look like it’s all his fault.

Ian crosses his arms. “Battery’s dead,” he pauses, a thousand thoughts suddenly running through his mind. “Why, is everything okay? Is it Debbie? Carl, Liam?”

Lip shakes his head, “No. They’re fine. Look, can we talk?” He eyes Mickey and adds. “In private.”

Mickey scoffs from where he’s standing beside Ian and leaves without a word.

Ian watches him go with a weird lump in his throat. Weird because he has no fucking idea why he wants Mickey by his side if he’s hearing bad news.

“Fiona needs our help,” Lip starts, and Ian’s stomach drops.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing’s wrong. We need to get Aunt Ginger’s will notarised. And we need a dead body, preferably fresh.”

He laughs at Ian’s expression. “We’re going home,” Lip grins.

*

The days leading up to the court hearing are busy for Ian. He hardly even sees Mickey until lights out, and whenever he _does_ see him, Mickey fucks off before Ian can even say a word.

It’s strange and frustrating and makes Ian confused as ever. He lies awake wondering what the fuck he did wrong while listening to Mickey breathing softly above him.

When Fiona is finally granted custody, Ian hugs his brothers and sisters with so much love in his heart that it feels like it’s about to burst from the weight. He looks around, sees Lip rubbing Carl’s bald head and Fiona jumping and hugging Jimmy excitedly, and suddenly he wishes he had Mickey there standing beside him.

Which is an utterly ridiculous thought and Ian shakes his head, trying to get rid of _that_ feeling. The feeling that something’s missing, and that something is Mickey Milkovich.

God, Ian really _is_ in over his head.

*

When Ian and Lip go back to the group home to pack all their stuff, Ian looks around for Mickey for more than half an hour. He only gives up when Lip tells Ian that he’ll just leave without him if he doesn’t hurry the fuck up.

Ian shrugs it off and tries not to feel too hurt about the whole thing.

It doesn’t fucking work.

*

Even weeks after returning home, Ian decides he will never take the comfort of his own bed for granted ever again.

He goes about his days as usual and is pretty proud of himself for only asking Mandy about Mickey once.

Ian thinks he’s doing pretty good getting over Mickey – except when he sees him on a Friday night, leaning against the back wall of the Kash n Grab.

“Mickey?” Ian asks, because the guy’s standing under a dark shadow and all Ian can make out is a silhouette. He steps a little closer, and yeah, that’s _definitely_ Mickey leaning against a wall, taking a smoke.

“What are you doing here?”

Mickey stubs out his cigarette and then crosses his arms. He doesn’t say anything for a long time, so Ian tries again.

“You were avoiding me.” He states. Because it _is_ a fact, something Mickey can’t deny. “Why?”

Mickey snorts and looks down. Ian wishes there were more light so he could see his expression properly. “Why do you think?”

Ian shakes his head, “I have no fucking idea. Thought maybe you were getting sick of me.”

Mickey snorts again but this time it sounds more like a scoff. “Yeah. Sure.”

“What? Was I right, then?” Ian says, letting the frustration seep into his voice.

Mickey looks down again and doesn’t say anything for a long time. Ian crosses his arms and feels the night air bite at his cheeks.

“Was fuckin’ obvious, wasn’t it?” Mickey finally says. “I did you a favour and saved you the trouble.”

Ian is feeling more confused than ever, he wants to touch Mickey’s arm and ask him what the fuck he’s going on about. But he knows Mickey probably wouldn’t like it, so he stays still.

“ _Saved me the trouble_? What’s that even supposed to mean?”

“It means that you were fuckin’ gonna leave eventually,” Mickey says and Ian finally hears it. You were gonna leave _me_ eventually.

“Mickey,” Ian starts. This time he _does_ step forward, and he touches Mickey’s neck with a gentleness Ian didn’t even know he possessed. “Mickey, what the fuck.”

Mickey huffs, clearly he’d been expecting something more eloquent. Ian smiles.

“Wanna sneak into the Sox game tomorrow?”

 


End file.
